


hologram heart-to-hearts

by gigglesandfreckles



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, but also some fluff, but holograms sadly don’t allow for that, me too, post-wrong jedi arc, they all need some hugs, they just love anakin so much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:48:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26297428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gigglesandfreckles/pseuds/gigglesandfreckles
Summary: we see Obi-Wan and Ahsoka have a conversation via hologram in the final season of tcw, but what if there had been...more?(three-parter)
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Ahsoka Tano
Comments: 36
Kudos: 205





	1. Chapter 1

“ _Sir, Admiral Yularen is standing by._ ”

Obi-Wan’s eyebrows lifted in surprise at his comm. Cody couldn’t see him, of course, but he doubted his long-time Commander needed to be in Obi-Wan’s physical presence to know exactly what he was thinking.

“He’s standing by for me?”

“ _Yes, sir. He doesn’t have your channel._ ”

“Well, patch him through, I guess,” Obi-Wan shrugged to himself.

It seemed strange that Yularen would have reason to contact him and not Anakin. It was more common for Admiral Block to reach out to him with any information from the Naval side of things.

But it also was not uncommon for Anakin to be unaccounted for at the Temple on periods of leave like this.

Where--or _with whom_ \--Anakin was spending his off-time, Obi-Wan had _absolutely no idea._

“ _General Kenobi,_ ” Yularen’s crisp only-business voice sounded through the wrist comm.

“Hello, Admiral. Looking for Anakin, I presume?” Obi-Wan sighed, already rerouting his steps toward the Senate quarters.

“ _No, sir. It’s you I wish to speak with._ ”

Obi-Wan halted. “Oh.” He walked to the side of the hall to get out of the way. Whatever Yularen had to say must be significant. “Go ahead, Wulff.”

There was a pause and Obi-Wan could imagine the Admiral’s eyes narrowing at the casual use of his first-name. “I have an incoming transmission for you, sir.”

“Is that not what this is?”

“ _No, sir. It’s external. Non-Republic. And it’s doubly encrypted._ ”

Obi-Wan frowned in confusion. “Well, who is it from?”

“ _We don’t know._ ”

“And how did they get through communication security systems?”

“ _We...don’t know._ ”

It was the only time Obi-Wan could remember hearing any hint of uncertainty in the Admiral’s voice.

“I’m going to need more information, Admiral. I agree this is unusual, but I’m at the Temple. The 212th is--”

“ _I’m with the 212th, sir._ ”

Obi-Wan’s eyebrows lifted again.

“ _Aboard the Negotiator. I’m here for the next three rotations,” explained Yularen. “I’m informing you because they...well, sir, they have your clearance code._ ”

A couple younglings hurried down the hall, their heads bent down. Late for class, no doubt.

Obi-Wan stroked his beard in thought. “Alright, put them through.”

“ _Sir,_ ” Admiral Yularen’s contempt was thinly veiled, “ _I highly advise you not to accept this transmission. We cannot locate coordinates or narrow down to even a particular system. I’m only relaying this information to follow prot--_ ”

“Put them through, please, Admiral,” Obi-Wan tried to keep his voice even and void of the irritation he felt at the Admiral’s insistence.

A pause.

“ _Yes, sir. Putting them through now._ ”

“I’ll head to my quarters immediately and accept it there. Thank you, Wulff.”

The comm ended without another word and Obi-Wan would be lying if he said he didn’t feel a bit of satisfaction in knowing he likely aggravated the Admiral. 

And Anakin said _he_ was uptight.

The Temple looked the same as it had when Obi-Wan was in the creche, but it felt different. There was less laughter, less conversation. The bubble of chatter and pleasant noise that had always greeted any individual entering the Temple was replaced with the echoing sound of the individual’s own footsteps.

He couldn’t bring himself to take on the full load of initiating any sort of change. The Temple reflected the hearts of the Jedi lately.

Heavy.

He nodded at Master Draanen as he passed him and rounded the final corner to his room. 

It had taken him longer than he liked to admit to get used to living alone after spending so many years with Qui-Gon and Anakin and he still didn’t prefer it, if he were being honest with himself. He’d considered bringing up the idea to Anakin that he move back into his old room in light of it’s recent vacancy.

But he wasn’t quite sure where he and Anakin stood these days.

Frankly, he wasn’t quite sure where Anakin stood with _anyone these days_.

With a shake of his head to prepare his mind for whatever the incoming transmission brought, he pressed the initiation button on his permanent holo-caster and stood back, waiting for the acceptance.

It took longer than he expected and when the blue light finally appeared, he was greeted not with a face, but a strangely familiar looking symbol of some sorts. He tilted his head to recall it, but was interrupted by an obviously distorted voice.

"Verify your name.”

Obi-Wan hesitated, wondering if perhaps Yularen had been onto something after all. But, finally, “Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

“Are you alone?”

“Yes,” he said suspiciously, automatically casting his eyes around the room to be sure, knowing he would only find his empty quarters.

The symbol fizzled out and was replaced with something even more confusing.

And wonderful.

But...completely unreal.

“A...Ahsoka?” Obi-Wan automatically stepped forward, as if touching the hologram would verify her presence.

She offered the tiniest of smiles. “When did you start introducing yourself so pretentiously? Like, _we get it_ , you’re the youngest ever member of the Council--”

“I started being so pretentious when I started receiving anonymous, double-encrypted holograms from outside the Republic,” he fixed her with a pointed glare, crossing his arms.

“Heh, sorry,” she shrugged, biting her lip. 

He studied her for a moment, sorting through the millions of questions he had wanted to ask her for all these weeks. He’d made so many attempts at locating her to check in on her, to make sure she was safe, to apologize, to talk to her.

He didn’t want to know how many more attempts Anakin had made in his own desperation.

But always, nothing.

They hadn’t heard a single thing from her since the day she left the Temple. She never even grabbed her things from her quarters. 

And a part of Obi-Wan knew that was the real reason he hadn’t brought up moving back in to Anakin's double-occupancy unit.

“Ahsoka,” he finally said, softly.

Obi-Wan was lucky to have a great many things in his life to be proud of. But there had always been something special about this little Togruta and the warmth she brought him.

“Hi,” she gave a watery smile.

“I’ve tried to con--”

“I know,” she said quietly, her eyes down in shame.

“The Temple keeps updated records, even of Jedi who leave, but you didn’t--”

“I know.”

“And Anakin. He--”

Her head snapped up. “Is he okay?”

Obi-Wan took a deep breath. “You know he isn’t.”

There wasn’t any contempt in his tone, but he watched her shoulders fall anyway.

“Are _you?_ ” he pressed.

“I’m okay,” she nodded, slowly, still not making eye contact. “I’m...well I don’t want to tell you where I am. But I’m safe.”

A part of him wanted to poke and prod until he convinced her to tell him her location. He knew he could succeed. She’d never been a particularly obedient Jedi, but he was also well-aware of the extra pull he had over her.

Again, there’d always been a special warmth between the two of them.

But if she wanted anonymity, he would comply.

“I’m glad,” he managed another smile. “I have so many things I’d like to say to you, young one, but...I assume there’s a purpose to this call beyond small talk, isn’t there?”

She grimaced. Guilty. “I need a favour.”

“Go on,” he nodded, curious.

“Well,” she began, her voice steadier than it had been before; more like the Jedi he knew, “I think I found a force-sensitive youngling.”

He sighed. “You’re not in the Republic, Ahsoka. We can’t--”

“What if I was still in the Republic?”

Obi-Wan unfolded his arms and held them behind his back, patiently waiting for her to continue.

She shifted on her feet and the hologram sputtered. “Just...for the sake of this conversation. Say my double encryptions were able to throw the signal past the Outer Rim.”

“I’d say that sounds like something only the Padawan of Anakin Skywalker would be able to do.” 

He meant it as a light joke. A throwaway quip to make her roll her eyes and banter back. It’s what they did, he and this special Togruta.

But her body immediately went rigid and her jaw clenched.

“Ahsoka, I’m sorry. I wasn’t think--”

“It’s fine,” she shook her head, her eyes closed. She looked like someone recovering from a blaster fire. “I’m...don’t tell him, Obi-Wan. Please. But I’m on the lower levels of Coruscant.”

Obi-Wan’s breath hitched.

She was _here_. Not only in this system, but on this planet. She hadn’t left. In fact, she was only a quick speeder trip away. 

Perhaps tomorrow he could clear his afternoon. Mace didn’t need his company to meditate and he could always have Plo fill in for him with teaching his class at the Temple. There was a pre-mission briefing in the late evening, but that still gave him plenty of time.

She’d come back. She’d listen to him, he knew it.

But as soon as he thought it, he remembered another piece of her statement.

 _Obi-Wan_.

It was a family name and one he’d never taken issue with. Until hearing it come from his Grand Padawan’s mouth. That wasn’t right. She wasn’t supposed to call him by his first name. 

It wasn’t that he cared about the formality of it. Hell, Anakin hadn’t called him anything but “Obi” for the first three months of being his Padawan.

But Ahsoka never called him by his first name. At least, she never had before.

Before.

He blinked, pushing the desperate optimism out of his head. It wouldn’t do anyone any good. This wasn’t his Grand Padawan. This was Ahsoka Tano, a former Jedi who had made the personal and conscious decision to leave the Order.

They’d never be able to go back to before.

“A youngling, you said?” he asked, in an attempt to ground himself.

“I’m not sure how old. Maybe four or five. But...old.”

Obi-Wan’s eyebrows knit together as his hand travelled to his beard. “That is strange. We normally have them identified by two, at the latest.” He looked up. “What makes you think they’re force-sensitive?”

“She moved her bed to the kitchen. Without touching it.”

His eyes widened. “You saw it?”

“Yeah, I was, uh...babysitting.” her nose twitched as she said it, her words rushed and running together.

He didn’t dare call attention to it, but he felt a prick of pain at knowing she truly was ‘roughing it’ now, finding odd jobs to stay afloat. As a former Jedi, what career could she even have? She’d never even had a public education.

“I’ll look into it, personally. Would you be able to send coordinates?”

“Yes,” nodded Ahsoka, but upon noticing Obi-Wan’s hopeful face, she frowned apologetically. “But I won’t be there. I’ll transmit the coordinates of the youngling tonight when I’m off-planet.”

Obi-Wan nodded, his lips pursed. “Thank you.”

She shifted from foot to foot, her hands twisting in front of her as she chewed on her lip. “It’s...it’s not that I don’t want to see you,” she explained, quietly. “I’m just...not ready. Not yet.”

“I understand, Ahsoka,” he offered his best attempt at a compassionate smile. “You were hurt.”

“But not by you,” she shook her head, insistently. “Obi-Wan,” there it was again, “I don’t...I never blamed you. I know that you did what you thought was best for the Order and the Republic and I...I understand.”

He watched her struggle to get through the sentences and was filled with empathy for this lost, brave girl. How he wanted to be with her and give her a hug, like he had so many times before, his chin resting in the dip of her montrals after a particularly devastating loss or death of a clone.

Her words stung him, not because they were wrong, but because they were true.

He _had_ done what he thought was best for the Order and the Republic. And he’d lost something very important in the process.

“I’m sorry,” he closed his eyes, overcome with emotion he shouldn’t be feelling. Not as a Jedi. He was better than this, he’d trained for this.

A Jedi has no possession, no attachment.

Losing someone shouldn’t feel like loss at all because he wasn’t supposed to have anything to lose.

But that wasn’t true and he knew it. Qui-Gon, Satine, and so many others had taught him that lesson time and time again.

“I know.” she whispered in response, fiddling with her sleeve. He noticed for the first time that she was wearing a robe he’d never seen before, certainly not Jedi-issued. “Don’t...please don’t tell him about this.”

Obi-Wan expected this request, but she had to understand the gravity of what she was asking.

“I won’t lie to him, Ahsoka.”

She shifted nervously, again. “It shouldn’t come up, though, right? He wouldn’t randomly ask if you received any strange holograms lately. So it should be fine, right? He won’t know?” her voice was higher-pitched than it normally was, sounding much more like the Jedi who had stepped off the ship on Christophsis so long ago.

“It shouldn’t come up,” he confirmed, his promise to her that if it did come up, he _would_ lie to Anakin. It wasn’t a matter of choosing Ahsoka over Anakin.

It was a matter of choosing both of them.

Anakin couldn’t handle this; not right now. And they both knew that.

“I don’t,” she cleared her throat, standing a little taller, “I don’t think I’ll be calling again.”

He pretended like he didn’t see the tears threatening to spill over her bright blue eyes, regardless of the expressionless face she had adopted.

“I understand,” replied Obi-Wan.

He pretended like his own eyes weren’t in the same predicament.

“May the force be with you, Master Kenobi,” she bowed her head, and reached out of the hologram line-of-sight to end the transmission.

Obi-Wan fell into his chair in a heap.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi-Wan admits something that's been weighing him down and Ahsoka learns that peace isn't mutually exclusive to Jedi.

She bounced in place, like she did at this time every week.

Was she doing the right thing? What if he decided enough was enough and chose not to answer? What if he had bad news?

Technically, she was committing a crime, breaking through the GAR’s security codes again, but Obi-Wan had been right on that first call those weeks ago...

Being Anakin Skywalker’s Padawan _did_ leave you with some useful skills, a hefy understanding of mechanics and technology being the least of these. It was more helpful that he left her with little regard for doing things the most over-handed way.

With a shaky breath, she initiated the call, maintaining the voice distorter and generic symbol of her facemarkings like she always did at first. 

“It’s just me, Ahsoka. Do you think after all these calls, I’m going to start bringing the Council in here for show-and-tell?” Obi-Wan’s exasperated voice cut through.

She pushed a couple buttons on her transmitter and the symbol disappeared, replaced with her old Grand Master in the robes she had seen him consistently don since she met him.

“I thought you’d be proud of me for being cautious,” she grinned, happy to see someone familiar. “You always said I was too reckless.”

“Yes, but, at this point in our relationship, it’s far more worrying for you to actually listen to something I say.”

Ahsoka rolled her eyes. “How many times do I have to tell you that it wasn’t normally _me_ defying your orders?”

“You _don’t_ have to tell me. I know my former Padawan very well, I’ll remind you. But I also know he had welcome help from you, little one. The Council paired you for one reason and one reason only: to phase me _out._ ”

“Quite the conspiracy theory, Obi-Wan,” Ahsoka grinned. “All of the shit Anakin and I went through together was just to off you?”

“Well, it nearly worked.”

“Yeah, I know. I held your lifeless corpse, _remember?_ ” She crossed her arms, fixing him with her best glare.

He at least had the decency to look ashamed. “Yes, well,” he pulled at the collar of his robes, “that wasn’t a fan favourite moment for anyone.”

“Oh, that reminds me,” Ahsoka’s glare quickly morphed into a smirk. She folded her hands behind her back and swayed innocently. “You do have ever-so-many fans out here, Obi-Wan.”

“Don’t you dare,” he shook his head vigorously.

“Why, just the other day, I was eating lunch and I heard these two twi’leks--it’s _always_ the twi’leks--talking about the _Great Negotiator_ , that _Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi_.” She cackled. “You’re quite popular. The holo-net was buzzing after your stunt on Cato Neimoidia.”

“It wasn’t a _stunt!”_ he cried in despair. “It was an absolute freak accident! Honestly, Ahsoka, do you think I _intentionally_ convinced them I was a deity?”

“ _Yes,_ ” she said. “You do it all the time with the Council.”

He gaped. “Oh, that _does it_ , young one. I will end this call quicker than you can say--”

Ahsoka giggled. “No, you won’t.” 

She was right, of course. He wouldn’t.

“You said I had lots of, erm, _fans._ Out there. So where exactly is _out there_?” he asked, now giving his own performance of innocence.

She threw him a chastising smile. “You know I can’t tell you that.”

“Won’t. You _can_ tell me, you just _won’t_.” he sighed, this conversation tired and overused.

When Ahsoka had called him the first time, she had meant it when she said she wouldn’t be calling again. She was glad to give the information about the force-sensitive youngling (who Obi-Wan had personally visited and taken to the Temple, faithfully never revealing his source when questioned by the Council). But the hologram transmission _hurt_.

It was a too-soon reminder of what she had left behind. 

She didn’t regret her decision to leave the Order, but it had still been the hardest thing she’d ever done. It wasn’t just a way of life or religion that she walked away from, it was people.

Family.

“I got a speeder bike this week,” she said proudly. “It’s a piece of crap and on the verge of blowing up, but I think I can fiddle with it and give it some new life.”

Obi-Wan smiled warmly. “I have no doubt.”

For the week after that call, Ahsoka felt conflict like she had felt very few times in her life. Leaving the Jedi didn’t make her any less affected by the Force.

In fact, she had felt more in tune with the Force since leaving than she had at any point of time with the Order. Especially lately. 

After her call with Obi-Wan, the Force seemed to be nudging her. At first, she couldn’t understand what it all meant, but after a week of being woken up in the middle of the night by her own uneasiness, she realised _exactly_ what it all meant.

Obi-Wan.

“Did you reach out to that Rodian man I told you about last week? He’ll provide you with a place to stay, free of charge. I trust him completely.”

“I didn’t,” she shook her head, chewing at her lip. “I’d rather...if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather figure things out on my own.”

He nodded, quickly, mechanically. It obviously _wasn’t_ all the same to him.

“Thank you, though. It...it feels good to have someone care.” she added, meaning her words completely, but also embarrassed by them. The two of them had always had a certain level of affection between the two of them that went beyond most Grand Padawans and Grand Masters, but it had mostly been implicitly understood in deed, not word.

_There is no emotion, there is peace._

She felt a sort of freedom now that she had left the Order. All the emotions she had worked so hard to level out and curb could be expressed with no pushback.

At the same time, though, it put that much more responsibility on herself to manage her own anger. 

Obi-Wan bowed his head, slightly. “You can count on that from me for the rest of your life, little one.”

And she had no doubt that he meant exactly what he said.

When she’d reached out for the second time, he answered the transmission in a panic, worried that something was wrong. After she’d assured him of her own safety, she nervously proposed the idea of talking more frequently. Once a week, to be specific.

He hadn’t hesitated at all as he smiled his agreement.

It was still hard. She had a strict rule against discussing the routine happenings of the Temple. Ahsoka simply wasn’t ready for that, yet. She also had a strict rule against discussing Anakin.

Of course, it’s already been stated how Ahsoka generally handled rules.

“How is he?” she asked quietly.

Obi-Wan paused, no doubt anticipating this since the conversation started.

She couldn’t help it. She’d tried to move past it, to forget the betrayal of the last look her Master ever offered her before she turned away from _everything_.

Leaving the Order was hard. But leaving Anakin had proven to be _impossible_.

He was everywhere and in everything. Smirking down his nose as she successfully shot through the GAR’s security clearance, reminding her to be alert as she walked into every new cantina or cafe, correcting her form after she knocked out the Trandoshan that had cornered her last week.

She’d tried to close herself off to the Force, to him, to memories. At one point, she’d even tried to let it motivate her to anger, to hatred.

Hating him would be better than _this._

He had no right to feel betrayed. Her decision wasn’t about him and the fact that he even tried to make her feel bad about it after everything that had transpired was completely unfair. It was cruel.

But...even as she forced herself to that dark place, mentally, she couldn’t maintain it. She wasn’t angry with him and she never would be. He may not have a right to feel betrayed, but he _did_. And that coursed through Ahsoka’s head every single day.

She worried about him when she was still by his side, but now? She had only her imagination to create new and more painful ways that she had hurt him. 

“He’s been busy lately,” answered Obi-Wan, diplomatically. Ahsoka tried not to get frustrated. “I haven’t seen him. The Council has been dealing with a lot recently so I’ve been here, but he stays at the front.”

“Surely he gets leave after a campaign?”

“The 501st does,” Obi-Wan nodded, tightly. “But Anakin hitches along with another legion in between assignments.”

“What?” shouted Ahsoka. “That’s stupid. Why don’t you stop him? Can’t the Council make him rest?”

Obi-Wan bristled. “I’ll remind you that the _Council_ is completely out of their element handling a civil war. They don’t have time to babysit a fully-grown Jedi and force him to eat and sleep.”

“You don’t need to remind _me_ how out of their element the _Council_ is, Obi-Wan,” she spat back.

His face faltered and she immediately regretted saying it. That was a low-blow and she’d dealt it for that exact reason.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, staring at her feet. She was still wearing her Jedi-issued boots. That needed to change.

Obi-Wan shook his head. “I...I’ve talked to him, Ahsoka. But you know how he is. He doesn’t listen. He thinks he’s invincible.”

“Well, he’s _not,_ ” she groaned in frustration, thinking about how much trouble his impulsiveness could get him in.

“Perhaps if you talked--”

“ _No._ ”

“Ahsoka,” he pleaded. “I know your stance on this. But I really, really think-””

“I can’t, Obi-Wan,” she shut her eyes tightly, pushing back against the powerful feeling to say _yes, yes, yes_. “Please don’t ask me to do that.”

Because, in the end, she knew.

It had taken every bit of strength to tell him no that day at the Temple. If he asked again...if her Master ever asked her to return to the Order, to _him_ , she’d have no defense. She’d say yes.

“I just think he could use a friend,” Obi-Wan trailed off, with a tired sigh. 

She pretended that the hologram accounted for the extra lines on the Jedi’s face and dark circles under his eyes, but she knew that Anakin wasn’t the only one negating much-needed rest.

“What about Senator Amidala?” suggested Ahsoka, desperate for any other option.

Obi-Wan tensed. “I don’t...I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Obi-Wan,” Ahsoka sighed. “We’ve talked about this before and you know that I’m with you on this. But regardless of their...situation, if she can talk some sense into him, get him to stop running himself into the ground before he kills himself...is it such a big deal?”

“Yes,” he said firmly.

Ahsoka waited.

“Master Yoda is concerned.”

“But Master yoda doesn’t _know_ ,” Ahsoka frowned.

“ _You and I_ don’t _know_ , but...Ahsoka…” His eyes, cynical and dry, bore through the hologram directly to her. “Subtlety has never been a strength of Anakin’s.”

“Okay, okay,” she lifted her hands in surrender. “So Master Yoda probably figured it out. Why does that matter?”

Obi-Wan rubbed his beard, thoughtfully. “He and Anakin had a jarring conversation a few days ago. Apparently, Anakin’s nightmares are back.”

“But Jedi don’t have nightmares.”

“Precisely.”

“So they’re...visions.”

“Perhaps,” said Obi-Wan lightly. “Yoda is not willing to eliminate any possibilities.”

“But what does that have to do with the Senator?”

“The dreams concern Padmé.”

Ahsoka snorted. “Not to be crude, but I don’t think we should be overly concerned by Anakin dreaming about Senator Amidala.”

Obi-Wan allowed a small smile, but shook his head. “It’s not that simple. And regardless, I don’t think it’s in Anakin’s best interest for me to push him toward her, even taking Master Yoda’s concerns out of the equation.”

“You’re his friend, too. His _best friend_. I know that’s not the word _you’d_ use, but he would and you know it. You’re the person he trusts the most in this world.”

Obi-Wan’s face darkened and the shadows under his eyes seemed to deepen. “I don’t know if he would say that these days.”

“That’s just Anakin being Anakin,” she rolled her eyes. “Even when he’s being defiant and explosive, he still values your opinion above anyone else’s. If you just sat him down and--”

“Ahsoka, you’re not listening,” Obi-Wan shook his head.

“And you can just tell him that he needs to focus. That the war will be over soon and things will go back to normal.”

“Ahsoka,” he repeated, his eyes closed and a hand pushing on his temple.

“He can be a Jedi again, not a General. And then--”

“He blames me for you leaving, Ahsoka,” Obi-Wan cut in, his words slicing like a lightsaber and leaving a carnage of silence.

They’d talked about it before. 

Several times now. It had been awkward at first, openly discussing her decision to leave the Order, but she could tell Obi-Wan carried the weight of guilt and that was the last thing she wanted. She didn’t blame him, so he had no reason to blame himself.

Besides, it was her decision. There was no blame to even divvy up.

“That’s…” she swallowed. “That can’t be true.”

The hologram grew as Obi-Wan moved closer to the projector, leaning on the railing around his holo-caster. She noticed that his hair was a little longer than she was used to as it flopped forward, in response to his looking at the floor. His shoulders hunched up above his ears.

Her heart ached to be in the same room as him.

“He doesn’t think I did enough,” he explained, his voice ragged. “When the Council voted, he...he thought I should have fought harder.”

“Obi-Wan, I’ve told you before. I have nothing against you; I never did. You did your duty and I’ve always understood that. I never expected you to step out of line for my sake.”

He looked up, a pained smile pulling at his mouth. “That’s a rare gift your Master does not share, little one.”

“He...he told you this?”

“Several times,” he sighed. “The last argument was particularly volatile. We haven’t...he hasn’t spoken to me since.”

“Obi-Wan,” her eyes widened. “How...how did things get so bad in such a short time?”

She’d only been gone for two months. Surely Anakin hadn’t held onto this anger for that long. Sadness was one thing. Even frustration. But _anger?_ Towards Obi-Wan?

“I did fight for you. So many hours and hours of going round and round in the Council chambers, reviewing the evidence, considering alternative options, searching for holes in the case. Every time we met, I made it clear that I believed in your innocence.” He paused. “And then Ventress showed up.”

“I know,” Ahsoka looked down, wondering how things had ever gotten so mixed up.

“I’ve spent so much of this war finding myself head-to-head with Ventress. I know her better than I’d like and I...I couldn’t find a possible explanation for her involvement without incriminating you.”

“Obi-Wan,” she said softly. “You don’t have to explain all this to me. The whole situation was stupid and I let myself get played. I was impulsive. But I told you, it doesn’t matter anymore. I chose to leave.”

“I voted yes. In the final vote. I voted yes to your expulsion.”

Ahsoka faltered.

He...what?

She’d always known Obi-Wan was a part of the decision and she’d never expected him to cause a fuss in her favour, but to vote against her…

This was something she hadn’t even considered.

“I don’t...I don’t understand.” she said, her voice sounding smaller than she wanted it to. “I thought it was you who hung the vote, and maybe Master Plo, but--”

“It was Master Yoda who hung the vote,” said Obi-Wan, his voice deep with self-loathing. “In the final discussion, I...I changed my vote.”

“You wanted me out,” said Ahsoka, more to herself than to him. The ground under her felt unstable, like it, too, may give out and fail to support her at any moment, even as she trusted it to keep her standing.

“I don’t know what to say,” he admitted, quietly, his head lolling forward again as he hunched against the holo-caster railing.

“I need...I need to think about this for a second,” she heard her voice, monotone and low. Obi-Wan didn’t show any sign of hearing her, his shoulders wrought with tension.

Her Grand Master. The man who she’d most often sought for comfort and warmth. The only person, aside from Anakin, she had no doubt would gladly give up his own life for hers. 

Battle after battle of fighting by his side, trusting that he had her back, that he’d be there to check on her when it was all over, that he _believed in her_.

And these past two months. She made the choice to allow herself this one hour every week back into her old life. One hour of being Ahsoka Tano, with no title or confusion. Just Ahsoka with someone who cared for her as simply that.

But he’d thought she’d fallen. After _everything_.

She stumbled as she tried to mentally make sense of it all. Quick bursts of memories flashed through her mind; the memories she had pushed away since leaving. Obi-Wan moving her belongings into her quarters the first day she moved into his old room and passing off a hand-written note explaining the legacy of the great Jedi who had lived in that room before, ended with flourished affirmation that she would soon join that list. Obi-Wan ensuring she made it on the last transport before the comm tower on Kashyyyk had exploded, almost killing him. Obi-Wan taking her to obscure and eccentric food joints around Coruscant, specifically leaving out Anakin just to piss him off.

Ahsoka sorted these moments into folders in her head, weighing them against the news she had just learned. She closed her eyes, preparing to shield herself from the impending rage, betrayal, regret, embarrassment, hatred.

But through it all, only one thing remained: peace.

Her eyes shot open as she realised she harboured nothing negative toward her former Grand Master. 

“Obi-Wan,” she whispered.

His head hung, shielding his face from her view. He didn’t move.

“Master Obi-Wan,” she repeated, using the title she hadn’t let herself use in a long time, for fear that it would send her to a place she couldn’t come back from. He looked up, his eyes dark.

“I have peace.”

He only stared at her, not understanding. “What?”

“Just now,” she explained, her voice gaining volume now as she continued on. “I expected anger and betrayal, but I just feel...peace.”

“Ahsoka,” he smiled sadly, looking at her like she was a youngling that he had been tasked to explain war to. “I voted _yes_. In the final discussion concerning your involvement with the bombing. I--”

“I _know_ ,” she nodded, vigorously, her lek bouncing against her shoulders. “And I feel peace.”

“I don’t understand,” he frowned.

“Me neither,” she confessed, before a bout of giggles exploded out of her.

Obi-Wan took an involuntary step back, eyes widening as he watched her.

“I’m...sorry,” she managed through her laughter. “I don’t...I don’t know why this is so...funny, but...it’s okay.” She shrugged with a fresh round of cackling. “I’m okay! We’re...okay.”

“We’re okay,” he echoed slowly, still looking off-set by her outburst.

“All this time of meditating and working to control my emotions and...and the Force decides _now_ is the time to help me out,” she snorted unattractively. “It’s hilarious.”

“Ahsoka,” he said, sounding very concerned.

“Listen,” she took a deep breath, trying to stop herself. “I heard what you said. You voted yes. And I thought I’d be mad, but I’m...not. I don’t feel anything at all.”

He watched her for a moment and then Ahsoka saw a forgotten indention appear between his eyebrows. It only ever popped up when he was at his most authentically happy. Not coy, or diplomatic, or sarcastic.

Just _happy_.

Ahsoka had missed that.

“You’re incredible, Ahsoka Tano,” he shook his head with a face-splitting grin. “I don’t…” he chuckled breathily. “I’ve seen seasoned Masters struggle to possess the level-headedness you have. The Force is _with_ you.”

Ahsoka laughed again. “No kidding.”

“This may not be what you want to hear in this moment and it’s certainly not what I want to be telling you,” Obi-Wan sobered a bit, “but I believe you’re where you’re supposed to be. The peace you’re talking about. I feel it, too, little one. Outside the Order, you’ve...grown.” His eyes shone in the special way Ahsoka had always noticed when Obi-Wan was listening to Anakin give a successful mission report or sound wisdom.

She felt overwhelmed.

“Thank you,” she said, quietly, with a quick bow of her head. “I...I think you’re right. It’s not easy, but I think I have to find my own path.”

“If anyone can do it, it’s you.”

She felt her throat tighten at how much this man genuinely believed in her even though she'd left the Order, left him, left everything, but there was absolutely zero way she was going to let him see her cry. In a hurry to end the call and be alone with her thoughts, she chirped, “I’ll talk to you next week?”

“Nothing on this side of the Force could make me miss it, my dear.”

She managed a tiny smile through her quickly crumbling exterior, letting him know that she knew what he meant and that she felt the same way. 

It was the best part of _her_ week, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the "Padme nightmare" timeline is a little shifty here, but meh.
> 
> one more to go! as always, thanks for reading!! xoxo


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sooo...I altered the tags a bit when I uploaded this chapter because as is the nature of rots/tcw things...pain and sadness is indeed involved. I expected this to go a different way, but...I am one with the Force and the Force is one with me and I was powerless against it's complete redirection of this ending.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this pairs with the holo conversation in phantom apprentice with mentions of old friends, not forgotten. so if you want some homework, perhaps consider those as ~companion pieces~

Obi-Wan fiddled with the receiver of his comm again, hoping it was simply a technology issue on his end and not something else. He couldn’t let himself think like that. Not yet.

She should have checked in by now.

Rex had specifically told him it would be 14:00 on the hour and now it was 14:23 with no communication from Mandalore. He paced another circle around his holo-projector, tugging at the sleeves of his robes in impatience.

He was due to leave for Utapau in less than an hour. 

Every minute that ticked by was a minute of apologies and explanations he wouldn’t get to make. Questions he wouldn’t get to ask. Smiles he wouldn’t get to see.

After four months of weekly transmissions, Obi-Wan thought he would be out of things to say to his former Grand Padawan, but the Force pushed at him now unlike it had for any of their previous conversations. It was clearly conveying _urgency_ and _closure_.

He wasn’t prepared to consider those implications.

Because while he was fully confident in Ahsoka’s skill and competency, it was no longer a matter of her facing droids or Pykes. This was Maul.

Maul, who had a vendetta against Obi-Wan since that horrible day on Naboo so long ago when Maul first proved how much pain he could bring to Obi-Wan. He’d taken so much already and Obi-Wan wasn’t willing to give any thought to the possibility of him taking her, too.

“General.”

Rex’s static voice broke through, causing Obi-Wan’s shoulders to release tension he wasn’t even aware he was holding. His head snapped up toward the blue blur and he allowed a small sigh as he took in three figures: Captain Rex, Lady Bo-Katan, and _Ahsoka._

“You’re late, _Commander_ ,” Obi-Wan pressed on the last word with a light smile to make sure Rex knew there was no genuine reprimand there.

“Sorry, sir,” Rex nodded, removing his helmet to reveal the tiniest of smirks. “Full-city sieges can be a bit hard to time out.”

Bo-Katan stepped forward, ending the banter. “There are a small number of firefights still happening in sector 11.” She looked to Ahsoka, who was standing rigid, eyes glued to the holo-map in front of her. “But for the most part, your clones have been as effective as promised.”

Obi-Wan watched Ahsoka through it all, noticing the way her own stance mirrored his, arms crossed against her chest in deep contemplation. Her eyebrows were furrowed as she studied the map.

Was she that focused on the mission or that focused on avoiding him?

_I understand that as usual, you’re playing politics._

“He mentioned a name,” she spoke up, suddenly, looking directly at Obi-Wan. “Darth Sidious.”

Obi-Wan’s chest clenched.

“Who is this Sidious?” asked Bo-Katan, the words sounding foreign and uncomfortable in her mouth.

“I do not know much,” Obi-Wan paused, considering his options. He made a quick decision. “But I will share with you what the Council suspects.”

He hesitated before sharing the news of Dooku’s death, knowing it wouldn’t be taken without scrutiny. 

And sure enough: “Why?” she asked.

“Anakin killed him, while rescuing the Chancellor.”

Ahsoka’s eyes widened and Obi-Wan wanted to stop right there and explain the events of that evening over Coruscant; how he’d been unconscious, how they’d been trapped, how Obi-Wan had physically _felt_ the regret and conflict radiating from Anakin throughout their Council debrief.

But he’d said it to Bo-Katan and he stood by it: he could not allow his feelings to cloud his judgement.

“Then send me more men,” urged Ahsoka, an obvious challenge in her tone. He hadn’t heard that directed at him in months and he didn’t welcome it now, but it was still impossible for him not to paraphrase it in his mind.

 _Then help me, Obi-Wan_.

He took a breath. “Unfortunately, I cannot,” he said, continuing on before he could let the sparked irritation in her eyes affect him. “I’m being sent to hunt down General Grievous on Utapau.”

But Ahsoka was never one to give up easily. “What about Anakin?” she asked, a twinge of hope and excitement evident in her tone. “Maybe he can reinforce us?”

And for a moment, he saw the tiny Togruta on Christophsis, eager to learn from and fight alongside the great Anakin Skywalker. She’d never been concerned with concealing her admiration of her Master, a trait that had always been endearing to Obi-Wan as he watched their antics.

Unfortunately, the Master she had so eagerly bounced alongside for so long was not the same version of himself she was familiar with.

“May I speak to Ahsoka alone for a moment?” asked Obi-Wan slowly.

Bo-Katan nodded and walked away, but Obi-Wan didn’t miss the way Rex’s gaze lingered on Ahsoka, awaiting her small nod of confirmation. The signal that _yes_ , it was okay for him to leave them alone. Like Obi-Wan was the bad guy.

Ahsoka mirrored him again, crossing her arms and fixing him with a glare that clearly said _go on_.

“Anakin is on a special assignment by order of the Jedi Council.”

Her face immediately screwed up. “What _kind_ of assignment?”

Obi-Wan tried to explain as gently as he could, already anticipating an explosion. He’d already had this conversation once today after all and he assumed it would go about as well with Ahsoka as it had with her former Master.

“Observe? You mean _spy_ ,” she spat.

 _Yes_.

“The Chancellor has been a great friend and mentor to Anakin,” she turned her back to Obi-Wan. “I can’t imagine he is happy about this.”

The older Jedi took a deep breath. “No, he is not.” And that was the understatement of the millenia.

Truthfully, he grieved for his former Padawan, not quite understanding Anakin’s admiration for the Chancellor, but empathising with the tough spot he had been placed none-the-less. Obi-Wan had a difficult time imagining ever being in a situation where he would be asked by the Order to betray someone he cared about for the greater good of the galaxy.

“So perhaps it’s best that you _do_ speak with him.”

This had always been Ahsoka’s biggest _no_ during their calls. But this _wasn’t_ one of those calls. 

Ahsoka wasn’t planet-hopping the Republic while Obi-Wan snuck into empty rooms in the Temple or aboard cruisers, checking in and exchanging stories.

Instead, she was in an empty palace on Mandalore and he was preparing to engage the leader of the Separatist Army.

“And what?” she snapped. “Defend the Council’s actions? I hardly think I’m the best person for that.”

Her words stung in the way he knew she didn’t mean them to. Even so, it was an underhanded reminder that _he_ was responsible for her disillusionment with the Order.

“Ahsoka,” he said softly, already tired of arguing in circles with her the same way he already had with Anakin. They were too similar, too volatile. Obi-Wan could barely handle having this conversation _once_. “The Council isn’t always right. That’s why...I’m asking for your help.”

Immediately, he watched her shoulders drop in resignment.

Ahsoka Tano was many, many things and a _helper_ was at the top of that list. That, Obi-Wan had always known. 

She’d talk to Anakin; support him in the way he wouldn’t let Obi-Wan support him anymore. She’d explain things and Anakin would _listen_ and follow through with this assignment more wholeheartedly. Obi-Wan would go to Utapau and finish things with Grievous.

Then, finally they’d all be tog--

“Sorry to interrupt, but there’s been an attack,” Rex burst back into the room, not really even waiting for a response from Ahsoka before leading the way back out the door.

Time seemed to freeze for Obi-Wan.

This wasn’t right. He still had twenty minutes! There were so many more things he wanted to say. They’d never even had a chance to circle back to their argument from the ship where he’d almost thrown up when Anakin flippantly suggested sending _Ahsoka to fight Maul with no formal plan._

He’d tried to fight it, reminding them that Ahsoka was no longer a part of the Grand Army of the Republic...anything to keep her from this frantic, unplanned mission to hell. 

_Maul, Maul, Maul._

But when Ahsoka had said, “That is...if Obi-Wan agrees?” and looked to him with those big blue eyes that he’d been looking at through a hologram for far too long...what could he have _possibly_ said other than, “Very well.”

“You had best go,” Obi-Wan nodded to Ahsoka in one of the most selfless moments of his life. He wanted to stop her, tell Rex to fight without her, let her stay and give him his twenty minutes.

But it had never been about Obi-Wan and it had never been about Ahsoka, so as he watched her run out of the empty palace, a place that still haunted him, he just sighed a small smile of sad pride.

Suddenly, she stopped, turning over her shoulder. 

“Tell Anakin…”

He cut her off, unable to handle the finality of it all. “I will.”

And then she was gone, taking more of him with her than he knew was appropriate for a Jedi.

He didn’t end the call immediately. Afterall, he still had twenty more minutes of his day allotted to Ahsoka Tano and he didn’t plan on wasting any of them.

The tired Jedi watched the doors of the palace through the hologram, hoping to see them swing back and readmit his Grand Padawan into the room, her lek bouncing behind her as she jogged back to give him a quick gift before they headed off to face their respective monsters.

It’s what he’d been most concerned with receiving in this call anyway; more than an update on Maul’s location or a casualty count or the lockdown situation. It was greed and attachment that compelled him to desire it, which was something he’d deal with later, after Utapau, after Grievous. 

But an Ahsoka Tano smile was a powerful thing and Obi-Wan physically _mourned_ the fact that he couldn’t recall the last time he’d been on the receiving end of one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fin!
> 
> thank you for reading my first little attempt at something more substantial that a one-shot! it's intimidating stuff, so I really appreciate all the love you guys have shown me.
> 
> xoxo
> 
> tumblr for more sad sw stuff: giggles-and-freckles


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